


always coming home

by bunnieju



Series: atropos [7]
Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst with a Happy Ending, Arguing, F/M, Hopeless Dreams, I'm Sorry, Miscommunication, Misunderstandings, Returning Home, underdeveloped
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-05
Updated: 2020-06-05
Packaged: 2021-03-03 20:07:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,861
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24551329
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bunnieju/pseuds/bunnieju
Summary: Staring at the building across the street, Donghyuck had to remind himself that the regrets he held were bigger than his being, but feeling the burn of his dream wasn’t one of them. He had to remind himself that the love he held for that stage wasn’t a mistake, but the idea that he had to love it alone was.
Relationships: Jung Yoonoh | Jaehyun/Lee Donghyuck | Haechan
Series: atropos [7]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1692334
Comments: 4
Kudos: 33





	always coming home

**Author's Note:**

> happy birthday nana!!
> 
> this is late but hear me out. i decided wasn't actually going to finish or post it because this is so bad and i was embarrassed, but i was doubting myself and let twitter decide. ironically you were the only that replied and therefore decided.
> 
> i hope you at least like it a little, it tried my best and angst is the only thing i can do, i'm sorry. but jaehyuck :D
> 
> i wish for you to have many happy days ahead of you!

Darkness covered the city, combated only by the generous glow of the street lamps that lined the sidewalk. The starless night sky blanketed over everything Donghyuck’s eyes could see; home to the despair so deep-rooted into the city. No one walked this street but he could still hear the distant sound of vehicles and pedestrians perhaps just a street away.

The emptiness of the street was a good thing, as the sight of Donghyuck, a young adult with bright red hair poorly covered by a cap and all-black clothing, sitting on the dirty sidewalk duffle bag on one side and suitcase on the other was sure to draw some attention. And if by chance that didn’t catch their attention, his tear covered face and sobs that racked his frame sure would have.

On that sidewalk, he stared at the building across the street. It was a place he’d so often stayed at, citing it as home to so many of his colleagues and acquaintances, even if he didn’t actually live there and lived in company dorms instead. He instead cited it as home because of the person that resided on the 8th floor; someone who he thought he’d grow to see old age with. And he would have, maybe if he wasn’t such a terrible person and an even worse lover. 

He’d left someone who loved him despite his many despicable flaws, out of his own insecurities and refusal to look past his own fears. That night they’d stood filled with anger and let brutal words massacre what they’d worked so hard to build; the wails of a burning comfort, the death of a loving heart. 

The reason was stupidly sad in hindsight; the argument they’d had that night wasn’t the hill they were supposed to die on. After all, it had been built from Jaehyun’s genuine concern for Donghyuck’s well being. It had been the first night Jaehyun had even caught sight of Donghyuck in about a month, aside from glimpses when he’d pass Jaehyun’s studio or random pictures he’d send every once in a while, and Donghyuck had only gone to see Jaehyun to tell him he’d been hired as a back-up dancer for a tour. 

Jaehyun wasn’t blind — he knew that Donghyuck had been overworking himself once again, falling back into the same habits he had when Jaehyun had first met the young trainee. Donghyuck knew that Jaehyun wasn’t blind, but he’d tried his hardest to not burden Jaehyun with the concerns of his non-existent debut date.

The had been silently laying in each other’s embrace on the living room couch, the only a background noise to Donghyuck as he felt his consciousness slowly ebb. Jaehyun’s hand carded through his hair, allowing for a gentle love to settle on his chest — something he’d dearly missed — when Jaehyun called out to him.

“Donghyuck?” 

“Yeah?” Donghyuck slurred, eyes closed and barely listening.

“Have you considered taking a vacation?” Jaehyun’s words had drawn Donghyuck’s full attention.

Donghyuck sat up in Jaehyun’s lap and turned his body to face Jaehyun. “A what?”

“You’ve been burning out, baby, maybe you should pau—”

“I can’t pause! Pause and do what? Let every other person in this industry surpass me?” Donghyuck’s voice had risen above the sacred silence they’d made for their home.

“No!” Jaehyun quickly shook his head, but Donghyuck was already raising himself from Jaehyun’s lap and standing in front of the tv — it’s noise already falling deaf on his heating ears.

“Then what?”

“What I mean is that I don’t think you can handle—” Jaehyun began but Donghyuck was no longer reasonable. Donghyuck’s anger was building with every time that Jaehyun opened his mouth, blood burning as if he’d swallowed the familiar flame of his dreams.

“Maybe if you didn’t give up and settled for a job in the shadows of your dream, then maybe you wouldn’t be jealous of me chasing mine!”

Silence filled the apartment once more, disrupted only by the quiet sounds of the tv, and Donghyuck watched in rage as Jaehyun rose from his seat, towering over Donghyuck with a similar enraged expression.

Jaehyun’s usually calm demeanor had cracked and shattered to reveal a side to him Donghyuck had wished to never see. “If you can’t stop acting like a toddler—” 

Every word was like gasoline to the uncontrollable flame, every sound burning rage into his body and begging to be released in the form of unwanted violence.

“Shut up!” Donghyuck interrupted, moving to pick up his stuff from around the room.

“—throwing a temper tantrum about his nap time, then maybe—”

Why was it that he had forgotten why he loved Jaehyun in that moment? Maybe it was the way Donghyuck’s blood had been seemingly replaced with pure wrath, consuming every inch of love and loyalty he’d ever held. Wrath: the weapon of the foolish and cowardly; it knew only how to take and take and hate.

“Shut the fuck up!”

“—you really need that nap! If you can’t pause then maybe you should quit!”

Quit? Quit on the dream he’d held onto since he was a mere child asking his mother whether he could stand on a stage too? The thought alone felt like a stab through his chest, and all at once, every insecurity he’d built during the four years he’d been training had caught up to him. Every evaluation that they’d shamed him for, every time he’d been overlooked for the lineup of up-and-coming groups, every night he’d spent dancing until his legs collapsed under his weight, every day he’d sing his voice into a hoarse shell of itself.

Jaehyun had settled for a job in the company studios but Donghyuck could never allow himself to do that. 

“Fuck you! Fuck you and every single thing you stand for!” Donghyuck screamed, shoving everything he owned into his backpack and slinging it over his shoulder.

“You’re only saying this because I’m right! A fucking child that learned how to use crayons and now won’t stop drawing on the walls.” Jaehyun raised his voice even louder, following Donghyuck as he made his way to the door.

“Suck my dick, you lowlife industry scum!” Donghyuck slammed the door shut behind him with a force that caused the frame to rattle and the floor to vibrate. 

That had been two months ago, yet it vividly clung to him as if it had been moments ago. It’s funny how we remember our undoings better than any stitch or binding that aided our creation. It’s funny how we remember the fire better than the things that it burned.

The darkness had not yet surrendered to the light, but the sky was no longer that black abyss that picked at his flaws, instead it was a quiet grey glistening in the rays of light that burst their way through the despair. His silent hiccups calmed, but the heavy weight of his heart did not free him. 

As much as Donghyuck wanted to believe otherwise, he wasn’t made for great things. No matter how many sun rays drowned his skin, he wasn’t going to be handed his place in the light that easily. 

But he had dreams. Dreams that draped themselves over his being in the darkness of his childhood room. Dreams that whispered encouragement and filled his wide eyes with hope. Dreams that warmed his existence and with the opened eyes of an innocent child he’d reached out, fingers extended, towards its flame. Dreams that burned his soul and caused him to recoil into the cold, dark night once more. Dreams that encouraged him to reach forward once more, trapping him in his cycle. 

And at that moment, Donghyuck was cast with a gentle pink glow as the violent darkness faded — a light gifted to him, but that he’d never ask for, that he’d never earn. The skyline was a canvas painted with mellow blues mixed with beautiful pinks and oranges, vivid in its detail and warming in its forgiving hope.

Donghyuck raised his guilty hands and wiped at the tears on his face, this, however, proving itself fruitless as more tears quickly replaced them. 

Staring at the building across the street, he had to remind himself that the regrets he held were bigger than his being, but feeling the burn of his dream wasn’t one of them. He had to remind himself that the love he held for that stage wasn’t a mistake, but the idea that he had to love it alone was.

For a moment, he wished time would halt.

Anything would be easier than confronting the ashes of something he loved so much. He could have just gone back to the dorms. He could have just gone back to breaking his body and soul in those hollow practice rooms. But he’d come straight from the airport, having just finished the tour he’d been hired for, because he knew. He knew that his regrets were greater than his being and they would consume him if he didn’t take the difficult path.

Donghyuck’s knees shook as he stood and dusted off his clothing. His body shook as he entered the apartment building, luggage in both hands. His heart shook as stood in front of the familiar door on floor 8. His hand shook as he raised it to ring the doorbell.

The little sun sticker placed in the space above the doorbell stared back at Donghyuck in seemingly pity for the past it held and he spent a moment there, hand hovering over the doorbell, wonder why he’d gone so wrong that he’d felt the need to take the flames of his dream and weaponize it against the only person he’d ever call home.

Maybe it was how the ticking hands of the clock mocked him with every movement. Maybe it was the recognition that time was his enemy. Maybe it was the understanding that the light would never shine for him in that darkness. Maybe it was the realization that his time in the light would never be enough.

After all, it is one thing to look back and realize you’ve been drowning in darkness, but it was completely another thing to look ahead and realize your window of light had an expiration date.

Taking a deep breath, he tried wiping at his tears one more time in an attempt to look presentable, before giving up and pressing the doorbell. Moments later, the door opened to reveal Jaehyun in his disheveled, sleepy form.

Donghyuck felt a familiar warmth settle in his bones at the sight of his love, however, conflicted by the heavy guilt that weighed on his being, and the sight of Donghyuck seemed to have snapped Jaehyun into a more alert state. And for a while they just stood there, silently staring at the other with pained expressions, no words able to properly fit into any coherent sentences.

Until Jaehyun reached forward and pulled Donghyuck closer, wrapping him into a tight embrace, and for a moment they felt whole again.

“I’m sorry,” Donhyuck mumbled into Jaehyun’s shoulder, voice cracking with pain. “I’m so so sorry.”

Jaehyun simply tightened his embrace. “I’m sorry too, baby. Welcome home.”

  
  



End file.
